


Tales of Before

by BBCotaku



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: -Ish, Kid Fic, before canon, no evil briarwoods here, one shots, well...maybe later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8624536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBCotaku/pseuds/BBCotaku
Summary: Some oneshots concerning everyone's favorite family of long-named nobles.





	

  
Despite what some may come to think dinner in the de Rolo household was far from civilized.

"Mother!" Oliver practically squawked the word, swatting a hand in his sister's direction. "Whitney kicked me!"

"I did not!" Came his twin's reply as she swung her leg to one side, thudding the heel of shoe hard against Oliver's shin. The third youngest de Rolo had the horrific and dangerous talent of being able to kick with expert accuracy all the while not looking away from her plate. Shoveling peas into her mouth in the exact same moment that she launched one of her deadly attacks. "Oliver's lying—"

"—ouch! Stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything!" Despite Whitney's earnest tone there was a hint of a smile was on her lips. The cheeky kind of smile only practiced by children of an annoyingly young age.

Percival de Rolo (who had been smart enough to sit himself two seats away from his younger sister's antics) knew that smile all too well. Not because he was inclined to crack one himself, no he'd been blessed with the temperament of an old man at merely a few months old. Rather he was all too often the victim of one. According to Julius it came pre-packaged with being an older brother, a burden he would simply have to bear.

However on this particular night, at this particular Percival's thoughts were not occupied by the sounds of his mother trying to keep her youngest in line. Nor did he busy himself with the mounted plate of food set before him. Rather, Percival De Rolo the third found himself completely and utterly absorbed by the steady tick-tock of the dinning room's decade-old grandfather clock.

He watched the pendulum swing over the rim of his glasses, tipping his fork back and forth in time with the old device's gentle movement.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

"Off to the Feywild are you?" Vesper teased, waving a hand in front of her younger brother's face.

"Tiny clocks..."Percival said suddenly, dropping his fork with a loud clutter of metal against china.

"I beg your pardon?" Vesper asked, arching her brow. She turned to her father at this point, speaking with the utmost certainty as she announced, quite loudly that: "Percy's snapped."

Percy's cheeks flooded scarlet, and the eleven-year-old found his words failing him. "I–I haven't snapped!" He grumbled, shoving his spectacles back up his nose. "I was just...thinking."

"About tiny clocks?" Asked Oliver with a giggle. Having completely forgotten the assault on his shins.

"No! I just..." Percy scrunched his nose as he searched his brain for an explanation. "That clock's too loud and big," he said, almost accusingly. Jabbing a finger in the device's direction. "I was just thinking it would be better...if they were...smaller." He trailed off, feeling the gaze of his entire family fix on him. "Never mind." The words were no louder than a breath.

Frederick de Rolo was the first to break the room's silence. "How would you go about that?" He asked his son, much to Vesper's chagrin.

"Go about what?" Percy asked dumbly.

"Making it smaller."

"I dunno."

"Think about it," his father promoted.

Percy twisted his lip, looking down at the mash potatoes on his plate. "I'd make it smaller."

"Yes, I got that. But how?" Frederick's tone was by no means teasing or stern. Instead the words were prompting. Small attempts to draw the answer from a tight-lipped boy.

Percy shrugged. "I dunno," he repeated sheepishly.

"You'd have to get a better look at it, wouldn't you?"

Percy considered a moment before answering. "See how it works," he concluded.

Frederick smiled and went back to his dinner and one by one his wife and children did the same. The beats of conversation turning to other things.

***

"Percival."

Percy halted stiffly at the bottom of the stairs, watching as his sibling continued to their bedrooms, chattering to one another as they prepared themselves for the evening ahead. "Yes Father?" He asked, turning his head slightly to face his elder.

"Could you come with me for a moment?"

I don't exactly have a choice, Percy thought as he nodded, following Frederick back into the dining room.

The servants had cleared the plates as quickly as they'd placed them, leaving the two de Rolos as the room's soul occupants.

"Could you grab a chair for me Percy?" Frederick asked, fishing through the pockets of his trousers.

Percy thought the request strange, but completed it without question. Lifting one of the end chairs and hauling it to his father's side.

"Thank you. Be a good lad and place it by the clock would you?"

"Why?"

"You'll see."

Percy did as he was told, watching expectantly as Frederick withdrew a small brass key from his pocket with a loud "ah-ha!"

"Stand up, you'll need to get a better look," he ordered, slotting the key into a small hole at the side of the clock face.

Percy scrunched his brow. "Matron says we mustn't stand on chairs. She gave Whitney a right telling off when she caught her jumping on yours and mother's sofa."

Frederick chuckled, lifting Percy up by his waist before plonking him down atop the plush seat. "Well then, we'll have to be quick so she doesn't catch us mustn't we?" Before Percy could open his mouth to reply Frederick turned the key, an action followed by a soft click as the smooth clock face came away to reveal the gears behind it.

Percival looked from his father to the clock with a puzzled look on his face. "Did Vesper ask you to do this?" He asked, his tone suddenly taking on a good few years than was appropriate for a lad of his age.

Frederick laughed again, shaking his head. "No, don't worry about her. Your idea just got me thinking is all. I thought we could look at it together.

Percy nodded, standing up on tiptoe so he could better see the winding gears. "Could we make it smaller?"

"We could," Frederick nodded. "Though we shouldn't get too ahead of ourselves. We should take some sketches first, pull things apart, though perhaps not of this clock. I doubt your mother would like us taking apart her family's heirlooms."

A sudden spark of excitement lit in Percy's chest, causing the young boy to bob up and down on his toes. "Could we start now? He asked excitedly. "Julius has one in his room. I don't think he'd mind...maybe if we asked nicely he'd let us have it."

"Perhaps," Frederick agreed. "But I think this is a project we should start tomorrow, hm? You should be getting ready for bed, little tinkerer."

"Tinkerer?" Percy echoed, hopping down from his chair as he was not one to refuse suggestions from his parents. "That sounds rude."

Frederick snorted with all the wisdom and grace of a five-year-old. "It does a bit doesn't it? No a tinkerer, Percival, is a person repairs mechanical object, makes them better than they were before."

Percy looked to the clock again, watching as his father replaced the face and his away the turning gears once again. "Is that what I am?"

Frederick smiled, the laughter lines around his eyes crinkling like an old accordion. "If that is what you want to be."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey...got prompts? Wear a red shirt and send them to my tumblr @bbcotaku.


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